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Grabbing blue heels, I headed for my vanity. My eyes were glassy when I checked my reflection. I put on more makeup than usual, but still much less than Mom and Cassio probably expected.
When I made my way downstairs for the official introductions, I’d managed to calm myself. My eyes still felt too warm from almost crying, but my smile didn’t waver when I descended the stairs toward Dad, Cassio, and his companion Faro.
Dad took my hand, squeezing it as he led me toward my future husband. Cassio’s expression was a masterpiece of controlled politeness as he regarded me. His eyes were dark blue, like the depth of the ocean, and gave the impression that they could swallow you just as easily as the bottomless sea. Disapproval flashed across his face when he took in my dress.
“Cassio, meet my daughter, Giulia.” A hint of warning rang in Dad’s voice, which bounced right off Cassio’s stoic demeanor.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Giulia.” His mouth pulled into an almost non-existent smile as he took my hand and kissed it. I trembled.
Dark blue eyes flashed up to mine, and I straightened my spine. “The pleasure is all mine, s—Cassio.”
Dad glanced between Cassio and me, worried. Maybe he finally realized that he’d thrown me to a wolf. Dad tried to intimidate my future husband with a dark look, but a sheep didn’t become a predator by wearing a wolf fur, and Dad had never been more than prey among the blood-thirsty monsters in our circles.
Cassio straightened, ignoring Dad, and motioned toward his companion. “That’s my right hand and Consigliere, Faro.”
I held out my hand, but Faro didn’t take it and only politely inclined his head. Dropping my arm, I shifted closer to Dad, who scanned my face. He looked torn, and I felt sick satisfaction over his obvious conflict.
“I’ll send a new wardrobe over for Giulia. Please tell your wife to take your daughter’s measurements,” Cassio said. “I need a woman at my side, not a girl.”
That was too much for Dad. “Maybe this was a mistake, and I should cancel our agreement.”
Cassio moved in front of Dad, staring down at him with a look that turned my stomach. “We shook hands on the engagement, Felix. We settled matters with Luca. Everything is agreed upon. Given that we decided against a separate engagement, that makes Giulia my fiancée, and I’m telling you now that nobody, least of all you, will prevent this marriage.”
Maybe Cassio hadn’t wanted me, but he certainly wouldn’t allow anyone to take me away from him.
I held my breath. This was Dad’s home, and he ruled over this city. He only bowed down to Luca, certainly not to another Underboss.
At least, that was how it should have been.
Yet Dad cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “I have no intention of canceling our arrangement. I was only making a point.”
What point?
Cassio’s expression asked the same question. Mom barged in that moment, completely oblivious to what was going on. “Dinner is ready!”
Her smile fell when she saw us.
Cassio held out his arm for me to take. I glanced at Dad, but he avoided my eyes. The message was clear: from this day on, Cassio would lead the way.
I put my palm on my fiancé’s strong forearm. If Dad couldn’t protect me anymore, that meant I’d have to protect myself. Cassio led me into the dining room, following Mom, who was babbling about possible color schemes for our wedding. Cassio probably didn’t care the slightest bit. As a man, he wouldn’t even have to pretend otherwise—unlike me, the happy future bride.
When we arrived at the dining table, he pulled out the chair for me.
“Thank you.” I sank down, smoothing out my dress.
Cassio took the seat across from me. His eyes lingered on my bangs before they moved on to my flower earrings, probably deciding what new haircut he’d order me to get and what jewelry to buy for me.
He wanted to turn me into the wife he wanted, mold me like clay. Maybe he thought my age made me a spineless marionette that would bow down to her master at the slightest tug at her strings.
I met his gaze. I’d learned the subtle art of getting my way with a smile and kindness, the only way a woman could get what she wanted in our world. Would it work with Cassio? Dad always melted when I batted my lashes, but I had a feeling Cassio wouldn’t be easily swayed.
A week later, two packages filled with dresses, skirts, and blouses arrived on our doorstep. Mom could hardly contain her excitement as she unpacked clothes by Max Mara, Chanel, Ted Baker, and many other of her favorite designers. The dresses were pretty and elegant. They weren’t me at all.
I understood Cassio’s need to portray a certain image to the public, and at official events I definitely wouldn’t have worn my sunflower dress, I just wished he’d asked me to buy a few elegant clothes and not bought them for me as if he didn’t value my opinion—which was, of course, the case.
